Painting Flowers
by PruCan4evar
Summary: "Why do you care so much? I'm not special!" "That's where you're wrong." "What would you know anything about that!" "Because I love you." Where Romano learns he's worth more than he thinks. America x Romano.
1. Chapter 1

**I...created this for a very lovely author. She's seriously amazing and I feel insulted that her story hasn't gotten any reviews. It's beautifully written and it's AmericaxRomano. Really, what more could we possibly ask for? Anyway, this first chapter is actually really personal and I felt that Romano might be going through the same things so I decided to vent out my feelings. Normally I don't do multiple chapters, since most of the stuff I write out look better as a one shot, but I'll make an exception for this.**

**Warnings: Language, sad stuff, and thoughts of suicide. Plus shonen-ai. Can't forget the shonen-ai. Also, feel free to tall me if Romano is OOC, but I probably won't listen to that piece of information.  
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><p>Looking at the mirror, Romano could honestly say out loud that he hated himself.<p>

How many times has he stood here in this same spot, eyes never once looking away from his naked body, and wanted to scream and cry out in frustration because he wasn't good looking enough for anyone, let alone the one he loved? When was it the last time he actually _felt_ loved? Truly loved, and not forgotten and left in the back of someone's mind, left to wither away and collect dust? Was he ever remembered as someone special? Or just someone annoying, rude, and worthless?

How many times has he looked at his twin and felt envy and jealousy at his _little brother_ Feliciano, who was always so happy and bright around everyone? His fratello was the first one that came up in a nation's mind when they thought of visiting Italy. It was always North and never South. No one ever liked poor South and it's horrible personification.

Even his own grandfather never cared about him. It was always 'Feli~ this' and 'Feli~ that'! Not once has he ever heard his grandfather praise him or tell him how proud he was of him. Not that he cared. It was just another slap in the face that he was named after the great Rome when it was obvious who his grandfather favored more.

He remembers once, a conversation he had with Rome. It was just a passing statement, but Romano could never forget the hurt that stabs him when he remembers it.

_"Ah, Mini-Roma! What are you drawing?" Rome knelt by his older grandson as the child continued to paint a sort or abstract view of the land._

_"The tree," Romano replied, looking up at the man with a rare shy smile. 'Maybe he'll like it and say something!' Romano thought, hope shinning in his eyes._

_"Oh that's nice," Rome didn't even glance at the picture and was instead looking around the place. "Have you seen Italy around here? I wanted to take him somewhere for a little bit."_

_Romano shook his head no and ducked his head so that Rome would not see the tears that threatened to fall. 'I'm Italy too... What about me?' _

_He could feel his heart dull, but not shatter. No, it wasn't until years later did he realize why it wasn't broken. It was because it was never healed to begin with._

Romano wasn't stupid. He knew perfectly well his grandfather died while spending his last moments with Feliciano, the only grandson he ever bothered to call Italy.

"I hate you." Romano stared at the dull eyes staring back at him. They didn't blink. "I hate you so much. Why are you so damn pitiful?"

Nothing. Not even a feeling passed through those eyes. Romano hated it. He hated this. This feeling of darkness was overpowering him, rising up his throat and threatening to choke him. He screwed his eyes shut, effectively blocking his view of those dark eyes.

"Fuck..." Romano could feel his shoulders shaking and he leaned his forehead on the mirror. It felt cool against his flushed face and it calmed him somewhat. "Why the fuck is this happening to me... What the hell did I ever do?"

As he wasn't expecting an answer, Romano found those dull eyes looking back at him. He glared at them, and they glared back.

Face, so much like his grandfather. His hair and voice, so much like him too. Heart... What heart? He was the side-kick to North Italy. The bubbly-Italians' sour brother. The guy that shared blood with the adorable, loving, _perfect_ Feliciano. How can he have something so innocent like a heart when his brother was the one that was obviously loved by everyone and anything?

"I hate you." It echoed all around him.

Not bothering to change into his usual sleepwear, Romano stepped out of his bathroom in nothing but the towel he used to dry out his hair. Flinging the towel to the floor, Romano crawled under the covers of his warm bed and snuggled his face into the pillow. Forcing himself to go to sleep, he tried to ignore the tears that made trails down his cheeks.


	2. Chapter 2

_'I want to be close to you... I want to hear you say my name... I want you to see me... For once in my life... I want someone to see me.'_

_The violin echoed the unsaid words as the sounds floated all across the room. Alone. He was alone. Not a single thing moved once he was done playing. Everything remained unmoved and still as an eerie breeze floated the particles in the room, softly lifting them into the air and Romano watched as they disappeared in front of him. So even dust wanted nothing to do with him._

_He didn't flinch when a hand gently took away his violin. Slowly looking to his left, warm, honey irises met his and Romano could feel tears gather at his eyes. It was Feliciano._

_"Please don't..." He could feel himself shaking against his own will. The dream was all the same and would end the same. "Please don't do it Feli..."_

_"Ve~?" Feliciano blinked cutely before smiling brightly at him. "But I have to silly! They want me to!" Romano didn't want to look behind him, but he did even though he already knew who was there._

_Every single nation, all sitting down on elegant chairs, arms folded or knees crossed, had their eyes trained on the exact spot Feliciano was standing on. They all ignored Romano, who was not even a foot away from his brother. Looking into the crowd, Romano saw Germany, Japan, Spain... his grandfather. Everyone. And they were all there for his brother. Not him._

_Romano's eyes widened as Feliciano started playing the violin. The same exact music piece he had been playing, was now being played by his brother. The same dips of rhythm, the same sway of the soft tones, the exact way Feliciano flicked his wrist at the sharp was the same. The music dripped sadness and pain as every nation was moved to tears at the display of raw emotion. _

_Romano could feel his world crumble as the man he loved clap cheerfully along with everyone else as Feliciano finished the music piece. The pain in his chest grew with each nation's cry of an encore. Grandfather Rome stood up with Feliciano by his side and declared Feliciano to be his one pride and joy._

_Romano's tears blurred his vision and the dream shattered._

When Romano woke up, it was to a high fever and a numbing pain in his chest.

He lived alone and his brother was staying at that potato-bastard's house. Spain was busy with paperwork and Romano only knew that because he had heard Antonio's boss yelling at him to actually get to work and not bother other countries. Romano wasn't very friendly with other nations, and he didn't trust very many of them in the first place which means Romano was on his own in battling the fever.

Struggling out of bed, Romano pulled on a pair of boxers and an oversized shirt of Spain's. The bastard left it from the last time he had visited. He called his boss to tell him that he was going to stay home for a while and hung up before the man could say anything otherwise.

'Medicine, water, and an ice-pack,' Romano chanted in his head as he fished through his medicine cabinet for painkillers and fever reducer. Somewhere in the back of his head, someone was telling him that it was better to call someone to help him, but he quickly squished that thought and swallowed the painkillers dry. Grabbing a bottle of fever pills, the frozen ice-pack, and a cup of water, Romano slowly made his way back to his room and snuggled under the warmth of his comforter. The bottle of pills and cup of water remained forgotten on his nightstand. Resting his eyes for a little while, Romano unwillingly fell back into sleep, where his dreams repeated over and over again his worst nightmares.

Three days. That's how long Romano had the fever.

Three days of nothing but bananas and tomatoes, because Romano didn't feel like making anything to eat. Three days without a proper shower. Three days of sleeping, and waking, and throwing up whatever stomach acid he had left. Three days of being alone.

No one visited him, called him, or asked for him. He was on his own, and that was just fine with him. He didn't need anybody's help! They can all suck it and die!

The pain in his chest worsened.

On the fourth day, something weird happened.

Romano got a call.

From America.

_"Hey Romano, I was just calling to see how you were! You didn't come by for our annual video-game/home-camping trip yesterday and that was not cool, dude!"_

Romano let the phone play out the voicemail as he gazed at the opposite wall, eyes never moving. Alfred's voice was unusually quieter than most calls he received from the American. Briefly, he wondered if everything was alright.

_"A-Anyway, no one's heard from you in a while so I took it upon my heroic self to come visit ya!"_

He snorted, which was a bad idea because he started coughing up a lung and spat out mucus onto the floor. He weakly smiled and wondered if he was dying inside. The mucus had tints of blood in it.

_"Just as a warning in case you don't get this message! I'll see you in a few, alright? Bye."_

The phone's dial tone echoed in the empty room. Romano had fallen back into his covers in a dead faint before the voicemail was over.

When he opened his eyes, the first thing he noticed was blue. The kind of blue that calmed his nerves and made him smile for no good reason. A sparkling, clear, ocean blue. God, he loved the color.

Incidentally, they were they eyes of Alfred F. Jones, who was standing over him and was inches away from his face. Romano didn't freak out though. He knew he was dreaming again.

"Romano! You're awake!" Alfred greeted him with a bright smile, a scene Romano has always wanted to see in reality; Someone actually happy to see him.

"Mhm... What are you doing here America?" Romano whispered hoarsely, his throat burning from the need to drink something cool. Why was he still feeling all these pains even though this was a dream?

Reaching over the bed, Alfred grabbed the glass of water and handed it to Romano, who eagerly drank in the cool liquid. Sighing contently, Romano handed the glass back to Alfred and looked at him expectantly. Alfred blinked before realizing that he had asked him a question.

"O-Oh! Well, since you didn't answer my call the first time, and none of the other countries had heard from you in a few days, I got worried and came down to see for myself how you were doing. I just wished you had called me and told me about your fever. I would've been here helping you," Alfred briefly glanced away and then back, smiling.

"I see..." Romano gave the other nation a rare smile, making the American in front of him blush like crazy. This is another thing he wanted to happen in reality. Smiling so freely and not making people question if he was feeling okay, just because one day he decided to be nice or happy. It's not his fault if he was always so angry; There just wasn't anything to be happy about before. However, being with Alfred, no matter if it was a dream or not, made him feel safe and an excited feeling wiggled inside him whenever his blue eyes looked at him with childish happiness.

Alfred caught his eyes and grinned back, and it was Romano's turn to go red. Lowering his eyes to his lap, Romano muttered to himself, "This dream feels a little bit different than usual."

"Why would you think you're dreaming?" Alfred asked curiously, making Romano jump in shock since he didn't know Alfred had heard him.

Romano looked up at him weirdly. "Well, you're here, aren't you?"

"You dream of me?" America asked, grinning mischievously. Romano could feel his face rise in heat and he didn't know whether to blame it on the fever or his obvious embarrassment.

Choosing to avoid the question, Romano's eyes looked at everything but the American in front of him and asked a question in order to avoid answering. "Why are you asking so many questions this time? We don't normally do this." '_Way to go Romano, making yourself sound like a pervert.'_ His thoughts were starting to annoy him.

"Then what do we usually do?" Alfred asked, looking worried as Romano grabbed at his brown hair in aggravation while sighing deeply. Looking back up at America's eyes, Romano's lips twitched upwards and he reached over to grab his wrist. Gently pulling him closer to him so that Alfred was sitting down next to him on the bed and without hesitating, Romano laced his fingers with Alfred's and rested his head on the taller man's shoulder. Sighing in content, Romano listened to the sound of the American's speeding heart.

"We just stay like this," Was his only reply as they sat there together on the bed, no conversations being told and only the feel of their body heat as they held hands as their arms rested against each other.

Romano's nose was pressed up against the side of Alfred's arm sleeve and he discretely sniffed the faded leather. It smelled of grass and fresh air; It's been a while since he's smelled spring outside his home. Glancing up, Romano saw how Alfred had turned his head a little bit away from him and was looking at a corner of the room. Though he couldn't see his entire face, Romano could see that his cheeks were also turning red at the close contact. Weird, since America was almost never this red in his dreams. For some odd reason, that made Romano glad. Maybe what he was feeling towards the American wasn't just a passing thing? Maybe he actually really likes the blonde nation...

America glanced back down at Romano and their eyes briefly locked before Romano glanced away with a furious blush creeping over his face. Alfred smiled and pressed closer to the shorter male, squeezing his hand in the process. Romano on his part, just muttered, 'bastard' before leaning back into the blonde's arm.

They stayed like that for a while. Romano resting his head on Alfred's shoulder listening to his heartbeat steady and then occasionally speed up at every hand squeeze he gave him. Romano closed his eyes and ran his thumbs on the side of Alfred's palm where their hands were clasped together, relishing the shiver that passed his body in tingles.

Romano loved this. This feeling of intimacy. This feeling of deep, deep emotion that only Alfred could bring out of him. He's never felt this way with anyone else, nor has he any real experience with this at all, but Romano was willing to just stay like this and pretend he had a chance with the American. At least in his dreams he could escape rejection and enjoy his little fantasies of them being together without having to suffer in reality.

Time passed and Romano could feel the tell-tale signs of drowsiness taking over his mind, and without thinking, he yawned and caught the attention of Alfred.

"Are you sleepy Romano?" He asked the Italian as Romano tried and failed to hide another yawn. Chuckling slightly, Alfred pulled Romano down next to him and he dragged the comforter over them as he placed his glasses on the nightstand. Snuggling closer, Romano hesitantly pressed his hands against Alfred's chest and tucked his head under the American's chin. Alfred wrapped an arm around Romano's waist and tangled their legs together in a practiced manner and they both lied there in a comfortable silence.

Now with his head and hands against the American's chest, Romano blushed when he noticed how muscular the nation really was. The bomber he normally wore had hid his body and the t-shirts did no justice for his figure. He resisted the urge to run his fingers all over his torso and arm and instead he decided to focus more on how the American was holding him. Their legs were stacked between each other and Alfred's arm was secured around his waist. His other arm was held between them, his hand brushing against Romano's clasped hands. Hesitantly, he laced their fingers, afraid of doing something the American wouldn't like. His heart beat faster when America tightened his grip on his waist and pulled them closer, their hands held together in warmth.

Suddenly, Romano felt something within him break and fill him. Fill him with warm feelings and fuzzy thoughts about this man before him. His heart raced and his eyes were becoming watery with tears as he realized what exactly it is that he felt towards Alfred. It wasn't just stupid feelings of longing; It was love, and he was scared of it.

Romano pulled away and avoided Alfred's question of what was wrong. He resisted the urge to tell him his true feelings and instead tentatively reached up and stroked Alfred's cheek. He brushed a few strands of blond hair away from his clear blue eyes, and stared into his eyes, silently asking if he could continue. The blonde smiled slightly and Romano took that as a yes.

Alfred stayed completely still, eyes only focused on Romano's face as the brunette continued to hesitantly touch his facial features. Everything from the curve of his lips, to the light freckles on his cheeks, and down to the slope of his neck; Everything was gently grazed over with careful fingers and Alfred closed his eyes as Romano traced the outline of his eyelids and eyebrows. Romano suppressed the shivers that threatened to run up his spine as he continued to touch this man's face. He wanted so much to kiss those lips, run his fingers through that golden hair and _love _him. Love him like he wish he could be loved. But this... This is as close as he'll get to showing Alfred how much he loved him.

A hand caught his wrist, stopping him from further exploration as Romano looked straight into Alfred's eyes. God, he loved his eyes. So clear and blue... The many emotions that fly through them in just a single glance, whether it be anger, happiness, relief, sadness, didn't matter. Each emotion thrilled him and kept Romano wanting to know more about the blonde in front of him. Their faces were inches apart and Romano could feel his breath fan over his face. He smelled of apple cinnamon. Without thinking, Romano titled his head up, eyes half closed and inviting.

"Romano..." Just like that, a pair of warm lips were upon him and Romano didn't think twice about anything as he lost himself in his most perfect fantasy yet. The kiss was gentle, sweet, and hesitant, as though they were both scared or unsure of how to act. Sparks flew inside himself and tingled all across his arms and legs and Romano swore his heart had stopped beating.

Then everything went black.


	3. Chapter 3

_Honey eyes stared back at him. _

_"Why do you look so sad, fratello?"_

_Romano didn't want to answer._

_"Is it because I haven't visited you in so long?"_

_Don't tell him the truth._

_"Ve~! Don't worry, fratello! I'll make sure to visit you more! I'll even bring you your favorite pasta!"_

_Don't make your brother worry._

_"...Fratello?"_

_Don't make him cry._

_"Fratello, what's wrong? Why won't you say anything?"_

_Don't... just don't..._

_"I hate you, Feliciano."_

_There was guilt as he looked into his brother's scared eyes. Feliciano looked ready to cry, the tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. Lovino took a few steps closer and watched as Feliciano flinched, confusion swimming in his eyes. _

_"I hate you, because everyone loves you." Feliciano's eyes widened even further. "We are both Italy, but I've never once heard anyone call me that. It's always been you that was given that honor. You've always been the best out of us two. You were Nonno's favorite grandchild, and the only one he ever loved and paid attention to. Everyone loves you Feliciano, not me, and that is what's killing me inside."_

_"B-but... But __**I**__ love you! Fratello, I-" Lovino interrupted Feliciano with a harsh glare, silencing his brother._

_"Do you? You've never noticed how this has all affected me, have you __**fratello**__?" Lovino spat, the word 'fratello' sounding dirty with disgust. " You never had to, because I don't matter that much to you anymore. We were never close to begin with, were we __**fratello**__? You can blame that on Nonno because after all, you were the last one to see him, right __**fratello**__?" Each statement was visibly stabbing Feliciano and he fell to his knees, eyes never leaving Lovino's. The tear tracks never stopped and Lovino caught a few stray ones as he knelt in front of him. Feliciano moved to say something, but Lovino shook his head._

_"You know... Lately I've been thinking that I shouldn't be alive," Feliciano looked stricken and Lovino smiled down at him with sad eyes. So very rare was it that Lovino ever smiled in front of Feliciano. "Why so scared Feli? It won't be you that will be hurting. You can be the unified Italy, something that you've always been told you were. I was never meant to be here, and ever since Nonno left us, I've been nothing but a burden to everyone."_

_Standing up, Lovino looked down at his brother with the tears threatening to choke him. "I'm sick Feli, and you know that now. I am sick and tired of being looked over for you. I am tired of losing everything to you," Lovino could see himself slowly disappearing. His fingertips were disintegrating into sand and Feliciano cried out in horror. _

_"I'm just fucking tired of everything." Lovino whispered, closing his eyes as Feliciano crashed into him, begging him to not leave him._

_"Lovino! Lovino! P-Please fratello! Don't leave me! Ti amo! TI AMO! DON'T LEAVE ME!"_

_"__**ROMANO!**__" A new voice joined Feliciano, both calling out to him and Romano blearily opened his eyes to see who else it was that was calling him. _

_Through the haziness, Romano could see two honey eyes looking back at him. _

_"__**Romano...**__"_

When Romano woke up it was to a sobbing Italian sprawled across his chest, a broken fever, and several countries surrounding him. Germany stood awkwardly off to the side as his normally bubbly lover cried a storm while his own brother was sitting down backwards in a spare chair with Spain standing right next to him.

"Fratello! You're alive!" Feliciano cried, eyes glazed over with fear and relief. "I t-thought I lost you forever!"

"Feliciano... What the hell is going on?" Romano pushed his brother off of him and sat up on the bed, wincing as his head screamed out in pain. He clutched his head and groaned, causing his brother to worry even more as a new wave of tears appeared.

"Ve-! Fratello are you okay? Germany, please tell me he'll be okay!" Feliciano tugged at the German nation's hand and looked up at him with scared eyes. Germany frowned and looked over at Romano before reaching over and placing a warm hand on his forehead. Romano gave a sigh, too tired to yell at the German for touching him, and flopped back into his pillows making Feliciano scream, thinking that Germany had somehow hurt his brother.

"VE-! GERMANY YOU KILLED HIM!" Feliciano sobbed, hitting the nation with his weak fists. Germany panicked and tried to reassure the crying Italian that he did no such thing. Prussia, who was silent up until then, had snickered at them but Spain paid no attention as he pulled a chair next to Romano and placed a gentle hand on top of his head. Romano weakly scowled, but it just came out looking like a grimace.

"What happened, tomato-bastard?" He asked him, closing his eyes as Spain lightly ruffled his hair. It comforted his splitting headache, somewhat.

"I don't know all the details," Spain said, smiling at the rare chance that Romano was letting him have any physical contact with him. "But this morning I got a frantic call from Germany, telling me that little Feli had passed out and wasn't responding to anything. When I arrived an hour later Prussia was already there and had said that it might have been a twin thing, which naturally had me worried so I had Germany bring Feli here in hopes that you could tell us what was wrong. However, when we had gotten here the same thing had happened to you and you can imagine the amount of panic Germany and I went through!" Spain laughed, gaining the attention of Prussia and Germany, who was still trying to comfort Feliciano as he was crying for no apparent reason now. Prussia walked over to Spain and sat on the edge the bed and kicked Spain in the shin. As the Spanish man fell off the chair in pain, Prussia continued the story where it left off.

"Anyway, 'Toni over here wanted to find someone to blame so as he was half-way through making a phone call to England, Feli over here," Prussia jabbed his thumb over his shoulder at Feliciano. "Decided to wake up and when he did he never left your side. Saying something about you disappearing?" Prussia's eyes narrowed but Romano didn't pay any attention to that. Instead his eyes widened in shock and stared back at Feliciano's guilty face.

"What are you talking about potato-bastard number 2?" Romano glared at Prussia, who glared right back.

"You heard me." Prussia stood up and looked down on Romano with his arms crossed. "When Feli woke up he started crying about seeing you disappearing in front of him and that it was all his fault and he couldn't do anything about it. Now I don't know about you but that doesn't sound like any normal nightmare, at least not coming from him." By now everyone was waiting to see what would happen.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, jackass. Feliciano probably had something bad to eat before he fell asl-"

"No I didn't!" Everyone looked at Feliciano in shock as the Italian looked right at Romano with tears in his eyes. "I didn't dream about it! I know what you said to me and I know it wasn't a dream because I would never, ever say those horrible things about you-"

"You don't know what you're talking about so shut up." Romano clenched the sheets around him and his breathing became shallow. His headache grew worse and there was an incredible ringing in his ears. If Feliciano didn't stop talking then Romano would do something that he would regret.

"No! I won't! You need to listen to me Romano! I know we haven't been close before but I promise to make it up to you! I'll spend my free time with you! I'll cook us pasta! I'll-"

"Feliciano, shut the fuck up." His vision was becoming blurry and Romano will be damned if he lets himself be seen crying in front of everyone else.

"Not before you realize that I'll be here for you, Romano! We all care about you. Why can't you see that-!"

"Shut up, Shut up, SHUT UP! YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING, GOD DAMNNIT!" Romano screamed, his voice cracking with restrained sobs. Feliciano clamped up and drew himself back from his older brother's fury. Spain and Germany looked alarmed at the Italian's anger and Prussia's eyes widened in shock. "WHY CAN'T YOU TAKE THE FUCKING HINT AND LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!"

"F-Fratello-"

"WHY IN FUCK'S SAKE WOULD I WANT TO SPEND TIME WITH YOU? IT'S BAD ENOUGH THAT I'M COMPARED TO YOU IN PUBLIC; WHY SHOULD I TORTURE MYSELF EVEN FURTHER IF I HAVE TO SEE WITH MY OWN EYES HOW PERFECT YOU ARE?"

"T-That's n-not...n-not..."

"Save it," Romano's voice was hoarse and cracking. Turning away from everyone's stunned faces, he tried to salvage whatever dignity he had left. "I don't want to hear it. All of you, leave my fucking house. Now."

"No." Had Spain had anything right to say, it wouldn't have been this. Romano swerved his head to stare at Spain in disbelief, as the rest of the occupants in the room. Spain clenched and unclenched his fists and heaved a sigh.

"How many times have I told you to stop comparing yourself to your brother?" Romano glared right on back as Spain gripped his own hair in frustration. "Romano, you know that your brother is not any better than you. I wouldn't want you any different than you are now-"

"Liar," Romano's eyes had a weird glaze to them and Spain was afraid that he had finally lost it. Gently, so that he wouldn't blow up again, Spain tried to grab Romano's hand but Romano slapped his hand away and glared even harder at him.

"I'm not lying to you, mi toma-"

Romano looked up at Spain with his most harshest glare and Spain flinched. Romano sounded like he was going to cry; Hurt and bitterness lacing his words.

"Don't you dare lie to me! When you first got me from Austria you had tried your hardest to trade me with Feliciano!"

Spain stood there with a stricken look on his face. Germany and Feliciano looked at Spain in shock while Prussia just looked away with a frown on his face. Spain glanced away from Romano before looking back at him with confusion in his eyes. "H-How did you-?"

"It was easy to figure out," Romano hated how his voice trembled. The tears were threatening to burst and he just wanted everyone to leave and not see him like this. "When you had came back... I was so relieved. I had thought that you had decided to keep me...but seeing the disappointed look in your eyes proved me wrong once again. It's always been Feliciano that you wanted, not me. So fuck you, Spain. Fuck you and all those years you've lied to me."

For once, Spain had nothing to say. He didn't know what to say, and it was that hesitation, that refusal to deny what was being said, that had Romano double over on the bed and cry. It didn't matter anymore that he was in front of people he didn't normally show such weakness to. It didn't matter that crying would only make his headache hurt worse. It didn't even matter that he was basically crying over something that happened centuries ago. All that mattered to Romano was the fact that the one person he had trusted since he was little, had never really wanted him in the first place. It hurt worse knowing that even now, Spain wasn't denying it.

"R-Romano..." His brother reached over and brushed his fingertips against his shoulder. Sobs racked his brother's body further and Feliciano stood where he was, shaking in tears too. He's never seen his fratello cry this hard before, and it made his heart break. Strong arms gently guided him away and he looked up to see the conflicting blue eyes of Germany. The blonde looked shaken up, for he too has never seen Romano break down like this.

"Let's leave him alone Ita... Feliciano," Germany corrected himself and Feliciano's heart thudded in warmth. He was being nice for fratello.

"I don't want to leave him alone, Ludwig," Feliciano worriedly said and Germany looked over his shoulder back at Prussia, who was dragging Antonio away from the heart-broken Italian on the bed. Lovino looked like he wanted everyone to die and leave him be.

"...I think that's exactly what he wants," Ludwig gently took Feliciano from the room and closed the door just as Prussia and Antonio were leaving. All four stood out in the dark hallway, neither knowing exactly what to say. It was Prussia who broke the silence, glancing around nervously from the door and back to them.

"I... I need to call someone. Toni, you're coming with me since I don't want you to do something stupid again. West?" Prussia grabbed Spain's lifeless arm and looked at Germany with a clear message in his eyes. Germany nodded and followed Prussia away from the door and into the downstairs kitchen. Feliciano clung to his arm like a lifeline.

Romano heard their footsteps walk away and shuddered out a soft breath of relief when everything became still again. He was back to being alone, and that was fine with him.

The tears on his face begged to differ.


	4. Chapter 4

He had only laid down for a few minutes to calm down his headache and hopefully ignore the obvious talking that was happening downstairs. He was tired damn it, and his head was still pounding from all the crying he did in the past few days. However, nothing could possibly explain why the man was currently fidgeting in front of him, still dressed in the clothes he once wore when he walked the earth. That same nervous smile was back on his face whenever he was stuck talking to him. His grandfather never really knew how to approach him.

"Er... Hi Romano!" Now his grandfather was trying to make small talk. Just great. "H-How uh... how have you been?"

Lovino just glared even harder.

"Right, um, not the right time to ask."

"No shit, asshole." Was the only thing Lovino said in response. This made his grandfather sigh in exasperation.

"I thought that when you'd grow up you would get rid of that filth from your mouth."

"And I thought that when you die you'd leave me the fuck alone." His grandfather winced looked as though he wanted to say something, but Lovino cut him off.

"Why are you even here?" He demanded, looking away from his grandfather and out the opened window of his room. The moon was out, casting an eerie glow into the room and highlighting Lovino's lone figure on the bed.

Rome, on his part, smiled sadly and answered, "I wanted to see how you were doing. I never got a chance to visit you."

"But you did for Feliciano?" Rome winced at this and Lovino refused to look at him. "You had time to visit Feliciano, but you didn't have time to visit me. I know you visited him plenty of times because that German bastard would talk about seeing you and thinking it's a dream and Feliciano would talk to me for hours about the 'dream' he had about you visiting him and Germany."

"You don't understand-"

"I don't have to understand. Nothing you say will ever make me understand why you didn't care enough to show your face around here." Lovino was deathly calm as he spoke, eyes still refusing to look at the defeated form of his grandfather standing in front of him. "Not that it matters now. You probably came looking for Feliciano and got stuck with me-"

"Don't say that!" Rome shouted, startling Lovino, who wasn't expecting his grandfather to react so harshly. "You are both my grandsons and I love you both very much! I admit that I may not have paid so much attention to you when you were little and I am sorry. But I'm here now and-"

"What? You think that by being here everything is going to be alright?" Lovino glared down at his grandfather and scoffed. "You had your chance all those centuries ago and you blew it old man. Now, I don't want anything to do with you so if you can do me the only favor you've never given me, kindly piss off and never come back."

There was a still silence in the room that made breathing for Lovino harder to do. His chest was clenched and a cloud of darkness hung over him, creating this sick feeling over his his body. His whole being _hurt, _in both the physical sense and mental sense. It felt like the dark thoughts he had before had multiply, and was slowly spreading across his body like an infection. It consumed his mind and brought out the worst in him. Lovino stared as his hands were visibly shaking, but not of anger at his grandfather.

Lovino glanced up at his grandfather in a way that reminded him that even though he was older now, and even though he went through years of painful thoughts of being abandoned by his own family, he still cared for the man.

Rome was still standing at the foot of the bed but his posture was different. He didn't stand tall and proud like he was before. He was hunched over, his hands held in front of his stomach, palms faced upwards as he stared hard down at them. His brow was furrowed and his lips were in a thin line. He looked angry, but Lovino couldn't tell if the anger was directed at him or something else entirely.

"I remember holding you and watching as you fell asleep in my arms after a nightmare." Lovino felt what he was about to say falter and his cheeks warm and he had mixed feelings of how to react to what his grandfather had said, but Rome continued to talk.

"I remember you holding out your hand from when a cat scratched you and telling me to make it feel better. I remember laughing when you fell over and landed on your brother and cried for me. I remember every little detail of every single painting you ever showed me, and I remember your proud little smile when you cooked me Minestrone and I ate every last bit of it." Rome looked up at Lovino with nostalgia swimming in his eyes. Lovino had covered his face when his grandfather was talking and his shoulders were shaking. Rome made no move to get closer to Lovino.

"I know I wasn't there for you as much as I should have, and I know I can't take it all away, but I never, never loved you any less than your brother. I want you to know that. I guess it never dawned on me that you would have needed me as much and Veneziano, and I failed as a grandfather because of it." Rome moved closer and gently placed his hand on Lovino's hair. Ruffling it slightly, Rome smiled down at his grandson.

"I never got to tell you how proud I am of you," Lovino hiccuped and Rome pulled him closer and hugged him around the shoulders. Lovino clung to his tattered clothes and buried his face into his grandfather's chest. "You took care of your brother and you tried your best despite what other's have said to you. You never gave up and you protected your brother, your people, and your country to your best ability. You found people to love and they kept you happy all these years. I'm... I'm sorry for everything, Romano. I'm so sorry," Lovino clutched at his grandfather closer and mumbled a few words that Rome could hear and lean a little bit closer.

A low mantra of 'bastard' kept playing itself out, but the words held no bite, only sadness and Rome sat there with his grandson in his arms and hummed a soft melody that he used to sing to him when he was just a child. He wasn't expecting his child to accept his apology, but he was glad he decided to listen to him after all.

There was so many things Lovino wanted to tell him, scream at him actually, but when the bastard started talking about... all that, it made it hard to tell him anything really. It still hurts, years of being lonely, years of wondering why he wasn't good enough to have his grandfather's affection and attention couldn't go away with a few simple apologies, and they both very well knew it. Lovino didn't understand why his grandfather was there now and why he was apologizing now instead of when he would visit Feliciano. Somewhere inside Lovino's heart he knew his grandfather was sincerely sorry and that he really did love him. He didn't want to talk to him though, that was something he wasn't ready for. The remained like that for a while, and when Romano pulled back it was to wipe his face and ask his grandfather what it's like in heaven.

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><p>Downstairs was as quiet as it could get. The t.v was on and muted, playing an Italian drama from back in the 80s. Antonio sat on the loveseat directly across from it, legs pulled up against his chest and arms around them. His eyes were unfocused and he paid no attention to the glowing screen, the only indication that he was aware of his surroundings was when he would occasionally rub his forehead on his knee and look up at the ceiling where Lovino's room was and then sigh as he looked back at the t.v.<p>

From the kitchen doorway that lead from the living room Feliciano looked worried as checked up on Antonio. He turned back around and caught Ludwig's questioning eyes. Feliciano shook his head and Ludwig let out an exasperated sigh and glanced over at his brother, who was in the corner of the room and talking in a low voice to someone on his cell phone.

Gilbert stood in front of the doors that opened up to the veranda. He had a hand resting on the curtain that covered the door and would once or twice drum his fingers against the glass reflection. The conversation looked serious, at least, that's what Feliciano had thought as he was kneading the pasta dough. Ludwig at some point had gotten up and joined Feliciano in the kitchen and was pulling out the eggs and mascarpone. Feliciano was about to point out where the sugar was when heard Gilbert laughing and he looked up in time to see Gilbert leaning against the door with the most ridiculous smile on his face. Feliciano had never seen that look on his face before.

"Okay, I will." Feliciano busied himself as the phone conversation looked as though it was ending. He turned to grab his brother's favorite wine from the cabinet. It was on the very top shelf and he stood on his tip toes and stretched as far as he could but only his middle finger brushed the tip of the smooth glass. A warm body pressed against him and a hand reached up and effortlessly brought down the wine bottle. Feliciano turned to smile at Ludwig and the German looked away with a blush and returned to his side of the kitchen where he was busily preparing his version of tiramisu, the kind that Lovino likes but would never admit it. Feliciano poured a small bit of the wine into the dough and kneaded it.

"I know, I'll tell them," Gilbert glanced at his brother and Feliciano, who were trying but failing to hide the fact that they could hear his every word, no matter how low he was speaking. Gilbert grinned and moved further from the pair in the kitchen. "Yeah, I'll make sure they know. Yeah, I... Me too, bye."

Gilbert flipped his phone shut and could feel two pairs of eyes staring him down. Scratching the back of his head, he turned around and was greeted with a disapproving look and a delighted one.

"Uh... We're going to have company in a few hours," There really was no other way to put it in Gilbert's point of view. His brother just shook his head and Feliciano tried to pry out of Gilbert who was coming but the Prussian only said that it was a surprise.

In the room next door Antonio had turned off the t.v and was lying sideways on the couch. Thoughts after thoughts about his little Romano flew through his mind and after a while he violently sat up. It was no good. Antonio could see where he went wrong and he wouldn't blame Lovino if he hated him forever. That was a thought he didn't want, but there was nothing he could do in this situation now that Lovino was upstairs and furious at him. Standing up, he grabbed his coat and cell phone off the coffee table and quietly slipped out the door. He would visit a few countries to get his mind off things and text Gilbert later where he was just so that the man wouldn't worry about him.

Gilbert leaned against the doorway and saw as Antonio left the house and shook his head as he heard the sound of a flower pot falling to the floor. Lovino wouldn't like it when he found out in the morning that Antonio broke something of his. He pulled out his phone once more and texted Francis to keep an eye out for Antonio and to make sure the Spanish man wouldn't get into any trouble. The reply back was comforting and would make sure he wouldn't be in jail by the end of the night. Gilbert smirked and walked back into the kitchen and pestered Ludwig into letting him 'taste test' the dessert, just to make sure it was tasting alright.

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><p><em><strong>AN: <strong>__I am so, so sorry about the late update. The next chapter will come out a week earlier than usual, just to make up for last time. It's just that with school starting back up from break and my laptop getting internet again, I got distracted and I really am sorry._

_A lot of you that reviewed were asking where America went. Well, I can't say, but the next chapter will hopefully explain things. Speaking of the next chapter, I'm going to try and bring a special someone into the mix, you know, to make things explain themselves in a way that other characters can't. Yes, America will make his appearance next chapter._

_Finally, I would like to thank everyone who reviewed and made me so very happy with all the reviews, favorites, author alerts and story alerts! I love all of you and I hope you won't be disappointed with the next chapter! Coffee-flavored fate, you're amazing for your encouragement and wonderful stories. Your stories, along with everyone else who write/draw Romerica/AmeriMano give me inspiration._


	5. Chapter 5

Ludwig was, quite possibly, one of the few nation's on earth who couldn't tell when someone was in love. He himself hadn't realized he had been struck by Cupid's arrow until that one Valentine's Day he had 'proposed' to Feliciano, but that was an event he'd rather not remember due to it's strong ability to make his face burn with embarrassment. He wasn't the most romantic country out there, nor was he the most romantic man either, and he couldn't really catch the hint that danced in his face in the first place.

So why was it that he couldn't, for the life of him, shrug off the feeling that his brother was, quite possibly, having romantic ideas? He certainly didn't act any different that usual. More obnoxious and louder than the past few days, that's for sure. It might have been the conversation he had while on the phone, but Gilbert looked more happy than he had ever seen him. Perhaps he was told something that made him react that way? Or rather... It was the person he was talking to? But if it was someone that made him happy, then who could it be? Did that mean that the person he was talking to was the one that's coming over? Were they bringing any extra guests? If so, was there enough space in Rom- Lovino's house to hold everyone together? Wouldn't all these guests make him uncomfortable in the first place? Gott, did this mean he had to make more food? Well, the call was a few hours ago, but there was still a half hour left till their arrival. If he calculated it correctly he might be able to make a few more servings if he didn't have to greet the guests.

Ludwig was pulled out of his hectic thoughts when Feliciano grabbed the mixing bowl from him and gently set it down a little ways from him and shooed him out of the kitchen.

"Your part of the cooking is done! Wipe down the table and fetch some table cloths from the hall closet. Lovino kept his best place mats in the shelf below it." Feliciano rushed back into the kitchen before Ludwig could say anything. Well there went his perfectly calculated plans. In the next room Ludwig could hear the sound of scraping chairs and was momentarily wondering if Gilbert was actually helping out, but the moment was broken as soon as he heard glass breaking and stifled laughter. Ludwig had then rushed over to scold Gilbert for allowing his pet bird to set the table and glassware and causing mischief in a house that was not his.

Feliciano glanced up at the clock that hung above the kitchen doorway then back at the food spread out before him. The pasta was ready and Lovino's favorite wine was all set in the cooler. In a little while his favorite dessert, tiramisu, would be done and they could enjoy an amazing dinner! Everything was set perfectly and ready. Now all there was left to do was wait for Gilbert's guests and for Lovino to come downstairs and then maybe he could apologize for whatever it is he did wrong! A perfect plan! Ludwig would be so proud of him for thinking it up all on his own!

Feliciano's mood was lifted even more, the thought of Lovino and him bonding like brothers and actually behaving in the same room made him happy with excitement. He's tried his hardest to always be there for Romano, and despite how distant they've been recently, he has not once thought horrible of him. He adores Lovino, and Feliciano was determined to make Lovino know that!

With determination flowing through his veins, Feliciano double checked everything in the kitchen, from the food to the cleaning, to the living room and the wines. _Everything_, must be absolutely perfect for the best brother ever!

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><p><em><strong>Hey guys. Missed me? -PruCan4evar<strong>_


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